Hate on Me
by Rebel Paisley
Summary: "I do this thing where I sort of alternate which one of those kids I hate the most. Right now it's the dancing Asian." Mike had done his best to make sure he stayed off of Sue's radar. Unfortunately for him, he's on it whether he likes it or not.


Hate on Me

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee; if I did Mike would have way more lines, and I don't own the song "Hate on Me."

Summary: "I do this thing where I sort of alternate which one of those kids I hate the most. Right now it's the dancing Asian." Mike had done his best to make sure he stayed off of Sue's radar. Unfortunately he did not account for scheduled hatred, and his week surviving it is an experience he will never forget.

Warning: Contains spoilers for season 2, episode 21, Funeral

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><p>He was sort of sad to say it, but Mike had become accustomed to life with Sue Sylvester.<p>

She was…he couldn't really describe her, but gun against his head the words "deranged psychotic" came to mind.

And maybe the tiniest hints of "sociopath".

He had to hand it to her though, when she committed to something, she _really_ committed to it, and even after almost _two years _her hate for New Directions was still going strong. Luckily, her plan of attack generally focused on Mr. Schuester or some of the more outgoing members like Rachel or Mercedes so Mike was usually in the free in clear. Aside from whatever she threw at the entire glee club, Mike alone had never been the target of her hatred.

The dancer had chalked it up to either luck or his natural tendency to fade into the background. After all, he never sang lead on any song and the only time he ever took the spotlight was for dancing which, for some odd reason, seemed to be better received at McKinley High than singing was. Whatever, he wasn't going to question it. His mad pop n' lock skills plus his easy going attitude had kept him off the radar of just about everyone (excluding Karofsky that one time at Christmas) and stupidly enough, Mike had thought that had kept him off Sue's radar too.

As it turned out, that was not an accurate assumption to make.

He wasn't sure what he did (and didn't bother worrying about it because it was probably nothing) or what he said or what had happened _exactly_, but for some odd reason, two weeks before Nationals, Mike found himself on the receiving end of Sue's complete and undivided attention.

And it had _not_ started off innocently enough.

Sue Sylvester started with a bang and then proceeded to throw even bigger and better bangs at you until her grand finale, crazy jackpot bang was rained down upon your sorry hide. And it wasn't even _normal_ things you would do to someone you hate, they were weird, Sue Sylvester patented, off-the-wall psycho things that ranged from mildly inconveniencing to strange to down-right bizarre.

Mike wasn't going to bother asking how she managed to break into his locker, she had done it so many times to the other glee kids that they didn't even question it any more (which should be a lot more disturbing than it actually was).

He had simply been minding his own business on zombie auto-pilot Monday morning (okay, so late night Call of Duty marathons _were_ a bad idea), trying to work out in his bleary, sleep-deprived brain if he had enough time to be able to use the bathroom _and_ still get to class on time when he reached his locker. He twisted in the combination, decided he did have enough time, and then proceeded to flail away in a very unmanly and conspicuous fashion as an army of frogs, _frogs,_ spilled out onto the ground.

Mike spent at least a good ten seconds staring at them in a confused wonderment (because who _did_ this?) before he heard the sound of a throat clearing and got his answer.

Sue Sylvester, in her six foot, strangely eerie, rage filled glory stood about halfway down the corridor, leaning nonchalantly against the wall in a manner that suggested she was doing him a favor by gracing him with her presence. She didn't say anything; simply pointed at him and then swept her thumb across her throat in a way reminiscent of a parody of a bully and left, not bothering to wait for a response, which was good, considering the fact Mike wasn't sure what he would have said.

The sound of _ribbets_ started him back into motion, and he wasted the next five minutes herding frogs out of his locker.

The bell rang just as he managed to sort out his books, and Mike cursed before running down the hallway, making it to his class just before the second bell but _not_ getting to use the bathroom.

By now he was willing to guess that a full bladder was going to be the least of his problems.

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Sue struck again eighth period, while Mike was out on the track.

Though football season was long gone Coach Beiste was still riding them hard, making sure they didn't get soft, and on this particular sunny Monday they were assigned laps. No specific number, just laps, and the goal was to run until the end of the period or until you passed out, and woe to the guy that succumbed to the latter.

Mike, thankfully, had not, and by the time he got back to the locker room the whole frog incident had become just a funny memory.

That didn't stop him from pressing his ear up against his locker (because, you know, it never killed anyone to be safe) and when he was satisfied there were no frog-like sounds coming from within he continued about his business happily. When he actually opened the door through, he was kind've hoping for the frogs back.

His clothes, all of his stylish clothes had been replaced by…_orange._

That was the best way he could describe it, orange _everything_.

It was like his outfit had been meticulously studied and then replaced by orange duplicates because everything was exactly the same but…_orange. _Bright orange, neon orange, burn-you-eyes-out orange.

Even creepier, everything was exactly the right size.

Coach Sylvester knew his measurements.

…_How?_

Mike didn't bother stewing over it, because if he did his head would probably explode, so he moved on, throwing the clothes on and rushing out of the room to glee rehearsal before any comments could be tossed his way. Of course, the ten minute lecture from Kurt on proper color coordination was unavoidable, but Mike could at least take consolation in the fact that only the only people that saw his new outfit were the people in New Directions, and after rehearsal he got to go home.

It was the little things, after all.

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Sue fixed that little flaw in her plan the next day, somehow timing his entrance to school so perfectly that she managed to dump two gallons of bright green paint on him without including any innocent bystanders.

She was there, standing by proudly but slightly more angry than usual, and if Mike was any better at functioning early in the morning he would have recognized the signs and made decisions that would have bettered his predicament, but he had been too busy thinking _"Paint, what?, books, oh crap mybooksmybooksmybooks"_ and hurrying into the nearest bathroom to do damage control before he could stop and… do damage control.

He didn't catch the look on Sue's face before he escaped, but if he had to guess at it, he was sure it was not a happy one.

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It made sense that one way or another, Sue would find a way to deliver her message.

It was only an added bonus to her that she included the rest of the school as well. Because that was _just_ how she rolled.

The intercom buzzed up halfway through second period (which Mike had been late for (with first period being completely skipped) because of his unforeseen trip to the locker room to get his gym clothes (which were now all orange, by the way)). To add insult to injury they were in the middle of taking a rather detailed quiz at the time, which called for absolute silence, so it wasn't like the teacher or the rest of the class could just talk over it.

She probably knew about the quiz too, just like she knew everything else.

"_Dancing Asian,"_ the distinctly calm tones of the maniacal Cheerios coach droned, cutting through the silence like a foghorn, and while she didn't say his name (didn't even know it) Mike shrank against his desk anyway, studying his quiz with renewed intensity.

"_You retreated before I was able to give you the proper mocking you deserved,"_ he huddled more, ignoring the odd looks the other students were sending him. _"And that just doesn't sit well with Sue Sylvester, so from henceforth all future taunts, insults, jokes, and sarcastic jibes will be issued via the PA system, so as to include the classmates which you have magically entranced into forgetting you glee club status."_

It was a frantic hope that the rest of school would just ignore that last comment, and Mike could see his slushie future increasing exponentially.

Somehow she managed to find even more intensity before she continued, _"I am onto you Asian. Your agile, stylishly adorned feet do not deceive me and I will not rest until the masses recognize the truth as well. Enjoy your chicken feet and rice while you can, from now on, its war."_

And with that the announcement ended with an audible click, leaving everyone to pick up where they had left off.

The pity won over by second period ended by lunchtime, where Mike was hit by not one, but _three_ separate slushie attacks, forcing him to spend the rest of lunch hiding in the girl's bathroom, Kurt and Tina helping him clean up as best they could, making small talk to try and cheer him up. Still, they couldn't break him out of the daze that had settled over him.

If he was at war with Sue Sylvester he was going to _lose_.

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By Wednesday Mike had finally found out the reason behind all this madness from Puck, after the jock finished telling him about his frog hunting escapades (Mike hadn't told him about the initial incident, the mohawked teen was simply under the impression that there was a sudden infestation and had taken it upon himself to rid the school of it for Zizes or something along those lines, and Mike didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise).

Sue's sister had passed away, and now she was taking out all her…anguish or rage or whatever Sue Sylvester felt out on him.

Mike had attempted to work up the courage to just go and talk to her about it because Kurt and Finn seemed to be able to do that without getting any grief for it, but anytime he got ten feet near her office door sirens (police grade, at least, which had _not_ been there the day before) would start flashing from intermittent positions in the hallway and what sounded like multiple car alarms wailed over the PA system and didn't stop until he ran back down the hallway and ducked around the corner.

Sue explained it to him sixth period, during Home Ec.

"_As you can see,"_ the system cut in with no warning, Sue no longer bothering with any preamble, startling Mike enough to crush the egg in his hand before he could crack it. _"I have equipped my designated home base with what I call the AWS, short for Asian Warning System. If you even __**think**__ about approaching my centralized location of occupation this baby will go off so bright that your female vampire clone counterpart will shrivel to ash and it'll be so loud that even your cacophonous, irritating midget friend will be jealous." _

Mike tried, but considering the circumstances, couldn't find it in him to hate her for ruining chocolate chip cookie day.

He _was_ slightly upset the she dragged Tina and Rachel into this mess though.

"_I've gotta say Asian, thus far your counterattack has been monstrously subpar. I can't tell if you're attempting to lure me into a false sense of security or if you're really as incompetent as you feeble minded concomitants, but either way I am prepared for you." _

A pause; and he could envision her taking a breath and leaning forward to stare down the microphone as though it were his head. _"I expect better of you Asian, you shame your ancestors with such half-hearted vivacity."_

He was pretty sure there was nothing he could do that would shame his ancestors more than anything Sue had ever done.

Steve Adler, the only other guy who had been suckered into this class, cut in once Sue was finished, "Yeah Chang, stop taking it like a-"

"Not one more word," Miss Hagberg interrupted, holding up her hand in warning, and the other jock shut up, earning glares from the rest of the class.

Mike would be safe for the rest of Home Ec, but that was about it.

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"Mike-"

"Hi Kurt."

"I thought we already talked about how huge a fashion no-no orange was-"

"It wasn't a choice."

"So I heard. Would you like me to talk to-"

"No."

"She might-"

"_No._"

"…Fine, revert to your male predilection. When you change your mind-"

"I'll come to you."

"Darn right you will."

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There was no replacement of clothes after eighth period, instead there was complete theft, and not just of the clothes, but of _everything._

Luckily, Mike had the foresight to hide his backpack in the choir room this time, but that also meant his spare clothes were three hallways away, and he had nothing but a towel to his name.

Finn took pity on him and produced a _spare_-spare set of clothes, and Mike swam in them until he reclaimed his backpack, convincing Sam to "have his back" (it was guard duty and they both knew it) while he changed in the bathroom.

There were no further incidents, Mike had wised up and started getting rides once he figured out his car could potentially get caught in the crossfire.

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Puck finally caught the last frog and gave it Zizes as gift.

On Artie's recommendation she named it Leonard, even though they're not totally confidant what its gender was.

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Thursday had started off quietly, _too_ quietly, leaving Mike jumping at every odd sound he heard (and a couple regular ones). He was on edge first period, waiting for a PA announcement. He had moved to irritated by second period, and by third period it was safe to say he was a little restless.

Fourth period, nothing, and Mike was agitated.

Lunch was spent in the choir room, hiding in the corner, staring hard at the door.

By sixth period Mike was worried, but entertained the idea that maybe, just _maybe_ Sue had gotten bored with him.

By seventh period he allowed himself the stupid belief that he was home free.

Halfway through seventh period he got called away to Principal Figgins' office, where he was informed that his locker contained what appeared to be ingredients needed to make a pipe bomb, including step-by-step instructions and all the necessary tools.

If his keaster hadn't been in the hot seat, Mike would have been impressed.

Unfortunately, it _was_, so Mike spent the rest of that meeting begging for Mr. Schue's intervention (which he got, but only after he managed to get Principal Figgins to remember his name and that he actually _was_ in the glee club). The best Mr. Schuester could do was promise that it would never happen again, and Mike, despite his innocence and clean record, was given his very first detention.

Outside Principal Figgins' office Sue stared him down, glaring at him through narrowed slits.

_One more day,_ he thought, _one more day until the service._

Hopefully after her sister was put to rest, this would be too.

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On Friday Mike decided to be proactive, getting to school early in hopes of delivering a peace offering. His mom had prepared a dinner for Sue, urging him to give it to her, and her faith was enough to encourage him to ignore the AWS when it went off, pushing him forward until he was in Sue's inner sanctum, a place he had never been.

Before he could lose his nerve he placed the dish on Sue's desk. "My mom made-"

He was not entirely positive of what interrupted him, but the next thing Mike knew he had an eye full of color, and when the dust or…sparkles, as it were, settled Mike realized he was covered head to toe in multicolored craft glitter.

Inside he cringed, _glitter,_ he thought, _the herpes of craft goods._

He would never get it off.

He escaped before she could literally throw anything else at him, abandoning the glassware food container.

His mom had been complaining about needing a new one anyway.

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There was a distinct quietness that had settled over New Directions Friday evening, and while Mike's clothes had been a lost cause he _had_ managed to scrub most of glitter off of his body, though Tina and Mercedes had made a game of finding any stray pieces he might have missed. It died down quickly though, when they made their way into the chapel.

It was a good ceremony, and for once Mike finally got to see a more human side of Sue, the sad, vulnerable side.

Listening to Mr. Schuester read the words she wrote for her sister made the abuse he had suffered this week acceptable. Grief was grief, and while it wasn't how he'd deal with it, he would respect her choices.

After the ceremony Mike was waiting for Tina to finish in the bathroom when Sue approached him, less intimidating than she had been all week. She was unarmed, save for an old mouse stuffed animal, worn and well loved.

She offered it to him quietly.

He took it, tentatively, and traced its edges slowly, feeling out patches of missing fur.

"It was Jean's," she broke in suddenly, after several minutes of silence. "Her favorite."

Jean's, her sister's, the only family she had.

He couldn't take it from her.

Mike opened his mouth to object but Sue cut him off, shaking her head briskly, already turning to walk away. "Take good care of it."

He stared at her retreating back, marveling at the strange transformation and all the words she didn't say.

_Take good care of it._

_Keep it._

_I'm sorry._

He turned his eyes back to the old mouse in his hands, beaded eyes faded, but loving. It was the closest thing he was ever going to get to an apology, but he didn't mind. Mike himself was a man of few words.

In the end, it was the actions that counted.

Tina didn't comment on the mouse when she finally rejoined him, nor did anyone else once they started to leave. He would fade back into the background next week, that was for sure, but he wouldn't forget it; he wouldn't forget the attention or the sister he had never met.

And that had to count for something.

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><p>Endnotes:<p>

My very first Glee story, as I heard Sue's line last week I was inspired, but on the fence about writing it. Thanks to some encouragement from my friend Rogue Ranger, I decided to go through with it.

I'm not entirely sure if Mike actually takes a home ec class or how the whole football off season works, so I went ahead and just made it up as I went along. If I offended anyone I apologize.

I attempted to involve the rest of the gleeks as much as I could, though I must admit I kind've forgot about the ex-Cheerios. It wasn't intentional, it just kind've happened.

Until next time


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